A long bus adventure

The two of us finally left Bocas del Toro after an unexpected 8 nights, both addicted to Chocolate-covered -cononut-sprinkled bananas and our withdrawal symptoms from our coconut-water addiction induced by Carlos beginning to fade slighlty.  We said many hard and meaningful goodbyes to our friends, or rather our Heike family, and trudged to the boat, once more nearly missing the last departure for the day, seemingly a common theme in our travels together.  Our mission was to reach Mexico by November 24th to reunite with my parents who would be arriving for their one week stay in a luxury condo.

Once across the Panamanian-Costa Rican border we were told by a border escort (a local who, for a fee, assists confused tourists across the border and to the immigration office then onward to a bus or taxi) that busses to Puerto Viejo were not running because the road was flooded and the only method of getting there was a long and expensive taxi ride.  We both questioned how and why a taxi could cross a flood if a bus was incapable and were reassured by the immigration officer that the bus stop was past the flood.  Still uncertain as to how we would get over the flood we walked on still lead by our "guide" and watched some children paddle a canoe down their ´street´towards their house on stilts, and soon came upon the flood.  It was the width of a street.  We were offered a boad ride acros for $1 each, but being budget travellers as we are, after observing several locals wade successfully across without being drenched much beyong their their petit-figured waist level, we decided to brave the river.  We hiked up our pants, strapped our bags on tightly, and trodded cautiously into the flowing water as many locals watched the two white tourists brave the muddy waters.  A few minutes later we were on the other side and on a bus back to hazy, familiar, and lazy Puerto Viejo.